Friday, December 26, 2014

Blurb: Set at the tail end of the Vietnam War era, Circles of Fate takes the reader from Fort Benning, Georgia to Thibodaux, Louisiana. A romantic saga, this gripping novel covers nearly twenty years in the lives of Shaunna Chatman and Todd Jameson. Constantly thrown together and torn apart by fate, the two are repeatedly forced to choose between love and duty, right and wrong, standing on faith or succumbing to the world’s viewpoint on life, love, marriage and fidelity. With intriguing twists and turns, fate brings together a cast of characters whose lives will forever be entwined. Through it all is the hand of God as He works all things together for the good of those who love Him and are
called according to His purpose.

Excerpt:

“What?” Todd Jameson’s hand trembled so hard the phone he held
threatened to slip through his numb fingers. He wiped a sweaty palm down his
thigh and grabbed the receiver then switched ears. The anguish in Mike Ferel’s voice
made the pleasantries they shared the first few minutes of the call seem like a
distant conversation.

“I’m sorry, Todd, to be the
one to tell you this, especially after what you’ve been through this last
year.”

He’d spent nine months at
war, nine months facing and dealing with death, but not even those things
prepared him for the death of his hopes and dreams in nine short minutes.
“When?”

A heavy exhale preceded
Mike’s answer. “Margaret died six months ago. Shaunna married three months
after.”

She said she loved me. He hadn’t meant to utter the thought aloud, but
somehow the words slipped past the knot in his throat.

“She cried a long time after
you left, didn’t understand why you never wrote or called.”

Though his voice held no
accusation, Todd heard the chastisement in Mike’s tone. “I...”

He blinked hard and cleared
his throat. “What was I supposed to do, blurt out my feelings over the phone or
in a letter and ask her to wait? I thought she was too young to go through
that, especially with the war and all. Not knowing if, when, I’d get sent over there was hard enough on me; she didn’t
need that on her heart. What if I didn’t come back? I couldn’t fathom putting
her through such an ordeal. Not with all the responsibilities she shouldered
from her mother’s illness.”

Blurb: A beautiful young woman, left with the burden of running her father’s pub after his death in the rough and dangerous sailor town of Tortuga has grown both tired and cold to those around her.

But, when a mysterious and intoxicating man asks for a place to lay low, she finds herself immediately attacked to the danger and release he promises. Will one night be enough to satisfy their cravings before he is back on the run?

Excerpt: He was close to her as she pulled a pan from the brick oven. She set it down on the wooden table and stood, staring at the cake for a moment, a small grin forming on her lips.

“Sara, it smells amazing.” She felt his fingertips pull back her hair from the side of her neck. His cheek brushed against the now bare skin.

“It looks absolutely…irresistible.” He began giving her small kisses at the bottom of her cheek, kissing down the side and back of her neck. Each spot where his lips touched burst like thousands of small electrical sparks. Her pulse immediately picked up and she became very aware of the hard-as-steel phallus pressing against her skirts. She knew she should refuse him, but perhaps it was the rum, or the deep need for relief, or both that caused her to push back against him.

“I told you…no one wants to be alone.” His voice was low, husky, practically a growl.

Sara turned to face him and locked eyes. “You’re right. No one wants to be alone. But sometimes, to be safe, it’s better to keep locked away.” Her own voice was dripping with desire, folded with intensity. “You can trust me. I always keep treasures safe.”

Author Short Bio: T.J. Smith, writing as Jillian Brooks, is an accomplished writer and writing instructor. She holds an M.A. in English and is a current doctoral candidate. She is also a member and volunteer of the RWA and NCTE. In addition to short stories, she has written and published several articles and is currently working on paranormal romance/erotica novels.

Friday, December 19, 2014

Hi everyone,
To day I have Andrea R. Cooper sharing her favorite recipe with us.

This recipe is really versatile – don’t like almonds? Leave
them off and it tastes fine. Don’t have any red bell pepper? Leave it out. Want
to save time? Use precooked diced chicken and frozen broccoli

Unroll 1 package of crescent dough; do not separate. If you
only want a bottom/pizza type crust, go on to the next step below. If you want
the braid effect – open 2nd can of crescent rolls. Peel off triangle and
arrange larger portion to the bottom of the first flat square at the bottom of
the pan, repeat. You should have a base, and triangle top ‘ends’ hanging over
the back of the pan.

4

Spread filling evenly over middle of dough. To braid, lift
two opposite strips of dough up, twist once, then lay over filling so that ends
meet at the center. Lightly pinch ends together. Continue alternating strips to
form a braid. Tuck ends up to seal at end of braid.

It's best to keep crescent roll dough refrigerated until
ready to use. Once the dough is warm, it becomes soft and sometimes sticky,
making it difficult to work with.

Son of Dragons Book 2 Legends of Oblivion series

Blurb: In a time of false peace, the
dead rise as soldiers for the Warloc’s scheme. For thousands of years he has
stood ready for the final battle. Though the witch and her cursed Elvin have
destroyed his physical body, now with his protégé, he has honed a new way to
wage war.

Shunned by her own people and weary-hearted from
centuries of lost loves, Elvin warrior Mirhana scours the land to silence the
undead. Her heart has turned as cold as the sword she wields, until a prince
seeks her aid.

Never has Prince Landon met a woman like
Mirhana. Both beautiful and deadly, she haunts his dreams. The battle at hand
becomes more enchanting than fighting to remain true to his unseen betrothed.

When a traitor emerges, new alliances are tested
and the only remaining hope is to follow the prophecy and find the ... Son of
Dragons.

Excerpt:

Clean from the
bath, Landon let the air from the open window dry his hair. Dressed only in
trousers, he leaned against the windowsill.

He
thought he smelled the hint of roses and heat on the breeze. Movement from the
street below caught his eye. He leaned out, squinting into the night.

Torches
lined the cobbled street corners. A cloaked figure waited. Then the innkeeper
rushed outside. His hands flew in gestures as the figure nodded.

Then
he pointed to the window where Landon watched. At the same instant, the cloaked
figure followed his finger’s path to Landon. Green eyes that seemed to glow met
his.

Landon
jumped up and cursed when his head hit the bottom of the window. When he looked
back, both figures were gone.

Thinking
the innkeeper would send guards, he waited with his sword in hand and his stare
riveted on the door. No one came. He must be getting paranoid, thinking there
was a ghost or enemy around every corner. His eyelids grew heavy as he waited
for a fight that failed to materialize. Finally, he rolled his shoulders back
to ease out the tension.

Still,
he couldn’t stop thinking about those piercing emerald eyes. They’d belonged to
a woman; he could tell. There was intelligence andcunning in them. Her stare felt as though
she saw through the façade he often wore as prince and to please others, and
into hiskajh.

A
woman who was not afraid, but used to being feared. It unnerved him, yet
excited him. His pulse quickened and his loins tightened at the thought of
those eyes filled with passion for him.

Better
get some sleep before the night was gone. Tomorrow, he’d tell Gillespie about
what he saw. He doubted he could explain those captivating green eyes that
continued to haunt him even now.

Legends
of Oblivion series:

The
Garnet Dagger – Book 1 in the Legends of Oblivion
series

Cursed
– Book 1.5 in the Legends of Oblivion
series

Son of Dragons – Book 2 in the Legends of Oblivion
series

Andrea’s Bio: Andrea
has always created characters and stories. But it wasn't until she was in her
late twenties that she wrote novels.

Divorced, and disillusioned by love
songs and stories, until she met her husband and realized, yes love and romance
are exactly like the songs and stories say. She is now a happy wife, and a mom
to three kids (two boys and a girl).

She believes in the power of change
and counting each moment as a blessing. But
most importantly, she believes in love.

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

You'll need one box of Angel Food Cake Mix and one box of regular cake mix, any flavor. (I have used chocolate as well as pineapple)

Mix entire contents of each box together and pour in a storage container. You will have plenty of mix to keep on hand for when you want to make a dessert. You can also put some of the mix in a pretty jar for a quick Christmas gift.

To make a serving of cake, use three tablespoons of the dry mix and 2 tablespoons of water. That is all.

Using a large coffee mug, pour mix in it. DO NOT oil or spray the mug. Microwave for 1 minute. This is the fastest cake ever!

Enjoy.

Note: I poured chocolate syrup in the bottom of the cup before I added mix. So I had hot fudge cake! I've also put brown sugar and pineapple tidbits in bottom of cup for pineapple upside-down cake. Worked great!

Now for "To Save a Lady"

A DARING MASQUERADE

A move from Paris to New Orleans brings disaster to Elise
Plaisance’s predictable life as a lady’s maid. The son of her grief-stricken
mistress disappears, and Elise becomes involved in a web of deceit when she
turns to a cunning gentleman for help finding the missing boy.

A CAPTAIN BEWITCHED

Captain Jesse Cross has journeyed to New Orleans with
General Jackson’s army, but his biggest battle is one of the heart when he
falls for a French girl cloaked in mystery.

With the city on the brink of war, their romance is born in
the darkness of a moonlit courtyard and never meant to last forever.

A FUTURE IMPERILED

Deceived by an adversary and haunted by her tragic past,
Elise must risk everything to rescue her mistress’s son before all is lost, and
Jesse knows he has to stop her even if it means sacrificing his life to save a
lady.

Excerpt:

He tugged her
onto the banquette where a street lamp hung from a rope suspended across the
street. A haze of light shimmered through the fog. He stepped back to get a
better look at his quarry.

A black hooded
cloak, with beaded trim, shrouded her from head to toe. An excellent garment
for pursuing a man in the dark. The deep hood obscured her face, except for the
half mask she wore. The sparkling gemstones scattered across her silver mask
winked at him.

He couldn’t
believe a woman was out at this late hour following him.

You could
expect anything to happen in this bizarre city.

He shoved his
pistol in his waist belt. He figured he knew who was behind this caper.
“Bonnard hatched this little plot, didn’t he?”

His cousin,
Lieutenant Bonnard Reid, had been enthralled by the numerous whorehouses in the
city. Bonnard acted like a kid running from one candy shop to another. He
visited a different whorehouse every night and returned bragging about how the
women were so adept in the art of pleasure.

Bonnard had
begged Jesse to join him on his escapades, but Jesse had been too busy setting
up the general’s headquarters. He figured his cousin had taken the matter into
his own hands.

“Wait until I
see him tomorrow. He won’t pull a stunt like this again.”

“I do not know
the man you call Bonnard.” She repeated the name awkwardly.

He frowned.
“But you are here intentionally?”

“Oui.”
She stepped forward, closer to him.

The seductive
scent of flowers and musk intoxicated him. Like her face, her body was hidden.
It was all shadows and secrets beneath the cloak except for the flirty mask
with its twinkling gems, but his imagination pictured her as a beautiful woman.
Nude, of course.

“I am your
liaison.” Her sensual voice was a mere whisper carried in the wind.

“Liaison?” The
implication was so intimate that it aroused him. He reminded himself she could
look like a toad for all he knew. She could have a husband and ten kids waiting
at home for her.

Patricia Preston is a Southern author who writes historical
and contemporary romance as well as humorous Southern fiction. Her publishers
include New Love Stories, True Romance, Affaire de Coeur, Cloverdale Press, The
Blue and Gray Magazine, Sea Oats Review, and Carina Press. She won William
Faulkner Award for Short Fiction, the Lone Star Writing Competition for
Historical Romance, and Harlequin’s World’s Best Romances Short Story
Competition.

Her current titles include a historical romance, To Save a Lady, two humorous short
stories, “The Yard Sale” and “Laid to Rest” available on Amazon, and a
historical novella, Almost an Outlaw.

Monday, December 15, 2014

A very popular dessert in the 1950’s, served
at the famous Coconut Grove in Los Angeles. The “Grove” was known for its great
cuisine. The Coconut Grove is featured in one of the scenes in Slivers of
Glass, a Noir murder mystery.

Ingredients

2
oranges or tangerines

Sugar

2
bananas

shredded
coconut, unsweetened

Direction

Peel the oranges
or tangerines. Pull the pieces apart; cut the pieces across the middle. Peel
the bananas and cut them into thin slices.

Cover the
bottom of the bowl with orange pieces. Sprinkle 1-2 teaspoon sugar over oranges
(depending on the sweetness of the oranges/tangerines). Put some banana slices
on oranges, and then sprinkle a little coconut over bananas.

Do the same
thing for the next layer, first the oranges, sugar, bananas and coconut. Make
more layers, using all the fruit.

Summer 1955: The body of a woman thought to be killed
three years earlier is found behind a theater in Hollywood. Movie stuntman Skylar Drake, a former LAPD
detective, is dragged into the investigation. He can make no sense of the crime
until he discovers a dirty underworld and unearths deep-seated… greed.

The hunt takes Drake to places he’d never expect. He’s anxious to close this case and get back
to his business in L.A., but he’s constantly haunted by the memory of his wife
and young daughter, killed in a mysterious house fire.

With more than enough dirty cops, politicians and crime
bosses to go around, Drake can trust no one including Martin Card, the cop
assigned to work with him.

There
were a dozen other things I could’ve been doing besides standing in line at the
drug store listening to Bill Haley’s “Rock Around the Clock” piped in
overhead. Though, it was a treat to
watch the cashier move behind the counter in her form-fitting white smock. I
shook my head and plopped a tube of Pepsodent and a couple of toothbrushes on
the pharmacy counter.

She
looked up and said, “That will be seventy-five cents, Mr. Drake.”

I
dug in my pocket and dropped three quarters in her hand, “Thank you, Miss
Abernathy.” She placed my items in a small white paper bag and folded over the
top. “Here you are, and quit calling me that.
My name is Emily. Anyway, this should keep you smiling brightly. I only
wish I could see yours sometime.”

In
all the times I’ve walked to this drug store, I couldn’t remember a day she
didn’t smile at me. Too bad there was a ‘y’ at the end of Emily’s name.
Women with names like Sandy, Cathy or Abby were bad luck. Those ‘y’ women were always trouble and it would be
dangerous to get mixed up with another one now.

“Thanks,”
I tipped my hat, "When I have something to smile about, I might just show
you.” I knew Emily pretty well since this place was only a couple of blocks
from my apartment, an apartment I lived in because a fire took my home along
with my beautiful wife Claire and Ellen my little girl.

As I
turned to leave, I winked at the two little old ladies behind me. They stepped back and stared as if I’d just
sneezed in their faces. I turned and waved goodbye to Emily only to see her
pointing behind me in horror. I followed her gaze and saw a dark green car
hurtling toward us - right through the huge windows at the front of the store!
The gigantic crash at my back sent shelves, boxes and cans hurtling in our
direction. I turned around as glass, smoke and debris seemed to explode in a
cloud around us. At that moment my training from the Marine Corps took over. I
instinctively swept up the two ladies and Emily and pushed them to the back of
the store. The other customers ran screaming out the huge opening where the
storefront windows used to be. I shielded the women against the back wall with
my body all the while knowing that my weight could suffocate them, but what
else could I do? The ceiling could come down on us at any moment. I held them
against the wall while listening to my heart pound. Slowly the tinkle of glass subsided and I
released them. Tiny slivers of glass and wood had embedded themselves in my
sweater and trousers. “You’d better be careful,” One of the little old women
chirped, “Your backside looks like a pin cushion. Best not to sit down for a while.”

Bio:

JANET ELIZABETH
LYNN was born in Queens, New York and raised in Long Island, until she
was 12 years old. Her family escaped the freezing winters and hurricanes for
the warmth and casual lifestyle of Southern California.

Janet has always wanted to write
and made it a quest to write a novel. Ten years later, with much blood and
sweat, her first murder mystery novel, South
of the Pier, was published in 2011. She has since written seven more
mysteries. Miss Lynn has traveled to the far reaches of the planet for work and
for pleasure, collecting wonderful memories, new found friends and a large
basket of shampoo and conditioner samples from hotels.

At one time Janet was an
Entertainment Editor for a newspaper in Southern California.

WILL ZEILINGER has been writing for over
twelve years. During that time, he took novel writing classes and joined
writer’s groups, but what has helped the most are published authors who mentor,
encourage, critique and listen to him while he continued to learn the
craft. At the time of this writing, Will has published three novels
(Ebooks.) The Naked Groom, Something’s Cooking at Dove Acres, and The Final Checkpoint (also in
print).

As a youth he lived
overseas with his family. As an adult he traveled the world. Will lives in
Southern California with his wife Janet Elizabeth Lynn, who is also an author.
Will says that finding time to write while life happens is a challenge.

She’s
swallowed her pride and moved back to her hometown with her daughter after her
divorce and the loss of her catering company. Now she’s trying to navigate the
strained relationships she’d left behind – including her first love, Jack
Davison.

Jack
never forgot Bridget, or the day she left town – and him. When Bridget caters a
lunch at Jack’s tourist ranch, old flames reignite. They have more in common
than ever – Jack’s also a single parent. Though they both try to keep things
casual, Bridget, Jack and their girls are starting to look a lot like a family.

But
Bridget’s only planning to stay in Paradise until she’s saved enough to
relaunch her business. Jack’s invested too much in his ranch to leave. And with
their daughters involved both have a lot more at stake than heartbreak. How can
they risk falling in love?

Excerpt:

She climbed into the cab, slammed the door shut, then
buckled her seat belt. She smoothed the apron over her lap, suddenly feeling
stupid and regretting her decision to accept the ride. Jack probably thought
she was crazy, or at best, unbalanced. There was no way she could explain the
fear that had controlled her life the last two years.

“I have a punching bag,” he said, his eyes on the road
ahead.

“Excuse me?” she said, confused. Had she missed part of this
conversation?

“When I can’t get things or people to do what I want them to
do, or when I’m just plain pissed off, I go down into my basement and beat the
hell out of Bozo the Clown.”

She stared at his profile. “Bozo the Clown?”

“I have an old Bozo punching bag, you know, one of those
toys that’s weighted on the bottom so it keeps popping back up. Bozo takes a
licking and keeps coming back for more.”

“Oh, I see,” she said cautiously.

He turned and flashed a dazzling smile. “No, I’m not crazy.
At least no crazier than you. Everybody needs some way of getting out their
frustrations or they’ll eat you alive. Mine happens to be beating the crap out
of Bozo, and I suspect that yours is walking briskly down country roads.”

She relaxed against the seat. “Maybe.”

“Next time lose the apron. You can’t pretend you’re a
serious jogger if you’re wearing a frilly pink apron.”

“No, I suppose not.” She grinned, the weight of
embarrassment lifting from her shoulders. Jack’s quirky sense of humor had
always intrigued and delighted her. “Next time I feel the urge to take a hike
I’ll throw on some jogging pants and tell everyone I’m training for a marathon.
That ought to stop the gossiping.”

“Sorry to disillusion
you, but nothing’s likely to do that. Gossip and Paradise go together like
peanut butter and jam. Most of the time it’s harmless, but if you’re smart
you’ll try not to draw too much attention to yourself.”

“Trust me, that’s the last thing I want to do.” She untied
the apron and pulled it over her head. “Doesn’t it ever get to you? The life in
the fishbowl? Are you and your wife happy living in Paradise?”

He glanced at her, and she saw a momentary look of surprise
in his expression before he turned his attention back to his driving.

“I’m happy enough. The fishbowl thing doesn’t bother me.”

“That’s good.”

“But if you’re going to live in a small town, you’d better
get up to date on your gossip. I’ve been single the last ten years.”

The news took her by surprise. Was he single because of
divorce or because his wife had died? “Oh, I’m sorry. Celia didn’t tell me.”
She wondered why her sister hadn’t filled her in after all this time.

Jack shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

He offered no further information and she decided not to ask
any more questions. After all, she barely knew him anymore.

Bio:

Jana Richards has tried her hand at many writing projects
over the years, from magazine articles and short stories to full-length
paranormal suspense and romantic comedy. She loves to create characters with a
sense of humor, but also a serious side.
She believes there’s nothing more interesting then peeling back the
layers of a character to see what makes them tick.

When not writing up a storm, working at her day job as an Office
Administrator, or dealing with ever present mountains of laundry, Jana can be
found on the local golf course pursuing her newest hobby.

Jana lives in Western Canada with her husband and a highly
spoiled Pug/Terrier cross named Lou.

Betrayed by her father and sold as payment of a Roman tax debt to fight in Londinium’s arena, gladiatrix-slave Rhyddes feels like a wild beast in a gilded cage. Celtic warrior blood flows in her veins, but Roman masters own her body. She clings to her vow that no man shall claim her soul, though Marcus Calpurnius Aquila, son of the Roman governor, makes her yearn for a love she believes impossible.

Groomed to follow in his father’s footsteps and trapped in a politically advantageous betrothal, Aquila prefers the purity of combat on the amphitheater sands to the sinister intrigues of imperial politics, and the raw power and athletic grace of the flame-haired Libertas to the adoring deference of Rome’s noblewomen.

When a plot to overthrow Caesar ensnares them as pawns in the dark design, Aquila must choose between the Celtic slave who has won his heart and the empire to which they both owe allegiance. Trusting no man and knowing the opposite of obedience is death, the only liberty offered to any slave, Rhyddes must embrace her arena name—and the love of a man willing to sacrifice everything to forge a future with her.

The warrior-woman looked heavier by at least two stone, but Rhyddes pinned her chest with her knee. She dropped the pitchfork and grasped her dagger, yanking it free. Grabbing a fistful of limed hair, she wrestled the woman’s head to one side to expose her neck.

The Pict bucked and twisted, trying to break Rhyddes’s grip. ’Twas not much different than wrestling a fever-mad calf.

Rhyddes’s deft slice ended the threat.

Blood spurted from the woman’s neck in sickening pulses.

Rhyddes stood, panting, her stomach churning with the magnitude of what she’d done. ’Twas no suffering animal she’d killed—and it could have been her lying there, pumping her lifeblood into the mud.

Bile seared her throat, making her gag. Pain lanced her stomach. Bent double, she retched out the remains of her morning meal, spattering the corpse.

After spitting out the last bitter mouthful and wiping her lips with the back of her hand, she drew a deep breath and straightened. As she turned a slow circle, her senses taking in the sights and sounds and stench of the devastation surrounding her, she wished she had not prevailed.

The news grew worse as she sprinted toward the lodge.

Of her seven brothers, the Picts had left Ian and Gwydion dead, her father and Owen wounded, the lodge and three outbuildings torched. She ran a fingertip over the crusted blood of her scratch, and she couldn’t suppress a surge of guilt.

Mayhap, she thought through the blinding tears as she ran to help what was left of her family, ’twould have been better had she died in the Pict’s stead.

The surviving raiders were galloping toward the tree line with half the cattle. The remaining stock lay stiffening in the fields, already attracting carrion birds.

Three days later, the disaster attracted scavengers of an altogether different sort.